


The Fine Art of Silent Communication

by AZGirl



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 12:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13008195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AZGirl/pseuds/AZGirl
Summary: Looking into their faces, he could read the exact same thing on each of them. Written in honor of Celticgal1041’s birthday.





	The Fine Art of Silent Communication

**Author's Note:**

> .  
>  No spoilers and not related to my ongoing story, Learning it the Hard Way. 
> 
> ***This story is dedicated to Celticgal1041 in honor of her 2017 birthday. Happy Birthday, my friend! I hope you enjoy!***
> 
> Note: The sections in italics are flashbacks.  
> .

**ooooooo**

“Nonverbal communication is an elaborate secret code that is written nowhere, known by none, and understood by all.” ~~~~~ Edward Sapir 

“The most important thing about communication is hearing what isn’t said.” ~~~~~ Peter Drucker 

**ooooooo**

When they’d found a good vantage point, his three friends were on their knees in a rough semi-circle with their hands up and resting on the backs of their heads. One by one, their hands were being forced behind their backs and tied with thick rope. 

Somehow, in the time d’Artagnan had been gone seeking reinforcements, the situation had turned against the three men he’d left behind. His first reaction was to curse himself for leaving his friends, despite being ordered to go. This was quickly followed by panic and fear that he would lose the men he had come to think of as brothers. 

The slight shifting of position by the Musketeer next to him, one of the reinforcements the Captain had sent, forced d’Artagnan to refocus on the scene before him. The rest of the Musketeers were making whispered plans to attack the men holding their brothers-in-arms, but something told him that they should wait. He said as much to Lapointe, the Musketeer Tréville had put in charge of the rescue mission. 

ooooooo 

_D’Artagnan, along with Porthos, Aramis, and Athos, had been called into Captain Tréville’s office.  
_

_The Captain was sending the three Musketeers out on a mission and had decided that he would be accompanying them.  
_

_D’Artagnan was trying to keep his face impassive, while on the inside he was elated to be included and on his way towards earning his commission. He was quite honored the Captain had considered him to be skilled enough to work with the men many considered to be the best Musketeers in the regiment.  
_

_He didn’t really know the men all that well yet, despite having worked with them twice before. Did the first time even count when he’d practically been shanghaied to help prove Athos’s innocence and save the man from a firing squad?  
_

_It had been a few weeks since the mission with Vadim, and the men were friendly towards him, having trained with him as well as sharing the occasional meal. Despite that, in his eyes they were still almost complete mysteries to him.  
_

_D’Artagnan knew enough surface facts to determine that all three had their vices, and knew they were also brave, honorable, and loyal. Porthos tended to gamble too much, and it wasn’t unusual for brawls to break out when he was in the general vicinity. Aramis gambled, but in a different way; he took up with other men’s wives, though there were also plenty of women who were not married. Athos, aside from being the best swordsman he had ever seen, was the most private person he had ever met. Compared to the other two, he barely knew the man whose life he’d helped save. Aramis and Porthos seemed willing to get to know him, but d’Artagnan couldn’t be sure of that fact with Athos.  
_

_Awkward silence followed Tréville’s announcement, which made him want to fidget, but he managed to keep still. The longer the silence extended, the more he wanted to protest that he was more than capable of being an asset on the mission.  
_

_However, just as he was going to give in and say something, he detected movement off to his right, where the three older men were standing.  
_

_He couldn’t quite see everything they were doing, but he could have sworn they were discussing the matter, even though none of them had said a single word out loud. There was twitching of eyebrows, a slight shrug, and more, but not one spoken word.  Yet, it seemed as if they were having a full-on conversation and completely understood each other with great ease.  
_

_Jealousy welled up within him. How he wished he’d had friendships like that growing up! To have that kind of closeness, where you could speak without saying word, was something special indeed. However, at the moment, all it did was remind him that he was all alone in the world.  
_

_Tréville, who had been silently observing all four of them, suddenly spoke up. Their commanding officer raised his voice, the tone making the Gascon stand straighter at attention. The Captain gave a stern reminder that he was the one in charge and decided on duty assignments, that his orders were to be obeyed. Even though it was said to all four of them, d’Artagnan had the feeling it was directed to the other three men rather than to him.  
_

_After the order had been acknowledged by all, and they had been dismissed, d’Artagnan rushed out of the Captain’s office, feeling disheartened. Given the way the others had reacted, d’Artagnan doubted he would have much of a chance to learn more about the language these men “spoke”._

ooooooo 

“Wait?! Are you crazy?” Lapointe asked, doubt plainly written on his face. “Our friends – _your_ friends – are about to die, and you want to wait?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”—He gestured towards his friends—“Look at them. Really look! Don’t you see it?!” 

Lapointe barely glanced in the direction of the captured Musketeers. “See what? They look perfectly calm to me. Bravely accepting that they are about to die.” 

“Exactly! They’re too calm. I think they’re waiting for us—” 

“Waiting for us to save them!” 

“No!” d’Artagnan said, making a frustrated sound and nearly forgetting to keep his voice down. “Waiting for us to back their plan. Just… Please; wait for a minute. I think if we go in now, we’re going to be signing their death warrants.” 

“And if we don’t go now, we definitely will.” 

D’Artagnan knew the other man had long ago made up his mind, but he had to try to explain why he thought waiting was the right course of action. 

“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but their expressions, the way they’re moving…”—d’Artagnan pointed towards his friends—“That gesture Porthos just made. It’s all telling me that they are waiting – possibly for me or us. You can’t tell me that they don’t seem very impatient, almost annoyed, can you?” 

“Expressions? Moving? How do you _know_ that?”—Lapointe pinched the bridge of his nose—“Look. We’re not blind. We are all well aware of how those three can “speak” without words. It’s mighty creepy, if you ask me. No one else has ever been able to figure out what they are saying…except perhaps the Captain. And now, suddenly, _you’re_ telling me that you can?” 

ooooooo 

_Each time Captain Tréville ordered him to join Athos, Aramis, and Porthos on a mission, d’Artagnan couldn’t help but be surprised. More than once, d’Artagnan had heard from other Musketeers at the garrison that they dreaded being assigned to missions or duty with the three older men, because it seemed no one could figure out what they were “saying” half the time.  
_

_He wished he could understand the men who had become his friends even half the time! Usually, he felt as if he was floundering, hoping he wouldn’t get the other men killed due to his continued ignorance. Every time they used their version of their silent language, he was left trying to decipher the meaning of every gesture, facial expression, and coming up short more often than not.  
_

_The first few times he had been on duty, or had gone out on missions with the three Musketeers, he’d discovered how each man’s smile had at least fifty additional meanings, aside from what most other people would assume a smile meant. And that was just a smile. When he added in all the other possible gestures, expressions, eye contact, etc., it boggled the mind how much was being said between the men without them uttering a word! Much of the time, he was confused as to what he should be doing, or when he should be doing it, but somehow he managed to glean just enough for him to get by and help them to accomplish their mission.  
_

_Every single time they would finish a mission, d’Artagnan expected he would be assigned to another team of Musketeers the next time he was called out, because he made so many errors in translating Porthos, Athos, and Aramis’s unspoken language. However, to his great surprise, he would be paired up the three older Musketeers for another mission or duty at the palace.  
_

_From the beginning, he was able to understand a certain percentage of the silent communication. Certain gestures were universal no matter who was doing them. However, many times he had to wonder if the height of the eyebrow being raised meant he was to wait one minute or two before he was to act, or if the addition of a newly clenched fist added or subtracted from that as yet undetermined amount of time.  
_

_Eventually, he began to comprehend far more than he ever thought he would.  
_

_During a recent mission, d’Artagnan knew he was finally making real progress in learning their language when he saw a slight change in Aramis’s expression, which made him suddenly want to find cover and wait out whatever was going to befall the idiot bandits who couldn’t see just how bad it was about to get for them. From then on, when Aramis’s smile would get a little too wide and a little too crazed, d’Artagnan knew the situation was about to blow up in their faces. And it usually did.  
_

_Porthos generally had an easygoing, open expression and friendly outward disposition. However, there were a few expressions and gestures that, when used in subtle combination made d’Artagnan surprised their foes weren’t tripping over each other as they ran away in terror. The first time he encountered the change from carefree to “you should run away while you still can,” d’Artagnan ended up with bruised ribs and a black eye. He knew better the next time…and the time after that…and the time after that.  
_

_Athos was a master at controlling his expressions, gestures, and every other form of silent communication. D’Artagnan was convinced the man’s skillfulness in that regard came from the fact that Athos hardly ever said a word aloud that wasn’t required, important, or both, and had still needed to interact with people. He sometimes wondered if Aramis and Porthos had learned Athos’s silent language, of if all three had come up with it together. Even the barest of gestures from Athos caused an immediate rippling effect of reaction amongst the others.  
_

_D’Artagnan still made mistakes in his interpretations, but he was getting better at it every day. At least, he hoped that was the case.  
_

ooooooo 

“Yes,” d’Artagnan said, imbuing his answer with as much confidence as could muster despite feeling almost the exact opposite. 

Lapointe stared at him for a few moments, searching for something. D’Artagnan did not look away from the scrutiny, wondering what the older man was searching for. 

“Fine,” Lapointe said, sounding resigned. “We’ll wait. But if they die…” 

D’Artagnan could hear the implied threat without the words having been spoken. The threat meant nothing to him. If he was wrong, and his friends suffered for it, then he didn’t think he could live with himself. 

He forced himself to refocus his attention on his captive friends. They were waiting for him, but how could he let them know he had returned? His mind drew a blank until the shock of Athos being backhanded gave him an idea. 

He waited until all the brigands had their backs to him before he stepped out from his hiding place to make a bird call, one Athos had teased him about in the past. He had barely gotten it out before he was forcibly dragged back under cover by more than one Musketeer. 

“Are you trying to get them killed? Stepping out like that… Damn it!” 

He couldn’t bring himself to feel repentant. “I had to let them know I had returned.” 

“You could’ve been seen,” Lapointe said, nearly hissing the words. 

“But I wasn’t.” 

D’Artagnan tugged his arm free from Lapointe’s crushing grip, and watched to see if his message had been received. From his current vantage point, he could only see the left sides of his friends whose captors were currently standing in front of them. 

It took a minute, but Athos, who was closest to him, tilted his head very slightly in his direction, before his expression very briefly flickered from its current impassivity to calculating and back. He couldn’t quite see what Porthos, who was in the middle, was doing, but Aramis rolled one shoulder as if it pained him. D’Artagnan had to wonder if Aramis was injured, or if it really was an additional signal that his bird call had been heard. While he was pretty fluent at this point, there was still a margin of error, which he was working hard to reduce. 

However, his friends had been more than obvious in their response: Message received. 

ooooooo  

_When he heard the first crack of a pistol firing and realized it was coming from the complete opposite direction than he’d gone, his heart leapt into his throat.  
_

_“Damn it!” d’Artagnan muttered.  
_

_His anger at himself flared bright white within him, but he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. Recriminations and guilt regarding his mistake could be addressed later, assuming he was still alive by the end.  
_

_The Gascon thought he had correctly apprehended what Athos had meant by the combination of gestures, facial expressions, and intense eye contact sent his way, but apparently he’d been quite wrong in how he’d interpreted the signs.  
_

_Working with the three older men, d’Artagnan had been forced to sink or swim in regards to trying to understand their version of silent communication. Lately, he’d been getting a lot more right than wrong, but in this instance, he’d most definitely gotten it wrong.  
_

_He skidded to a halt, his feet almost coming out from under him due to the loose, dry topsoil. Immediately, he changed directions and headed towards where he’d heard the gunfire.  
_

_As he ran, d’Artagnan prayed that the others were still alive, that his continued ignorance of his friends’ nonverbal language, and all its nuances, had not already cost the life of one of his friends.  
_

_Picking up speed, and not caring about the tree branches hitting his face, his mind kept trying to imagine all the worst possible scenarios, but he did his best to ignore them.  
_

_When he broke through the trees, the Gascon arrived just in time to see that Porthos was in grave trouble. He quickly unsheathed his main gauche and threw it at the man who had been about to fire a pistol at Porthos’s unprotected back.  
_

_The dagger hit its mark, but the pistol went off anyway. D’Artagnan expected to see Porthos fall, but miraculously the bullet had missed its target.  
_

_Porthos turned towards him, saw the downed man, and then grinned. “It’s about time you got here.”  
_

_The older man waved off the apology he had just opened his mouth to express, and left to find and engage another opponent.  
_

_As he sought out his own opponent in the ongoing skirmish, d’Artagnan sent a silent “thank you” to God that he been there in time to save Porthos’s life.  
_

_He was beyond grateful his mistake had not cost any of his friends’ lives._

ooooooo 

D’Artagnan turned towards Lapointe. “They know we’re here. We just—” 

“How do you know?” 

“The bird call. They’ve teased me about it more than once, but it’s from a bird I’ve only ever seen in Gascony. The only other person who knows how to do it is Captain Tréville. Either way, they know Musketeers are out here.” 

“No. How do you know they heard?” 

“Their expressions. Athos’s head tilt.”—d’Artagnan points towards Athos—“See there. Athos just asked Aramis if he was alright. And that there. Aramis just said he was fine. Not likely, is what I say. Porthos doesn’t believe him either, but both he and Athos are satisfied to wait and double check after this is all over. It’s probably Aramis’s shoulder.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the other Musketeers weren’t quite sure what to think. From their expressions and body language, which were not all that difficult to read after dealing with his three friends, it was clear they thought that, at best, he was making it up, or at worst, he was crazy. He was definitely not making it up. 

He could care less what the other Musketeers thought as long as they didn’t rush in before they were needed. 

Just when he was beginning to wonder what to do next, or how much longer they should wait, his three friends moved in such a way, that if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they’d planned it ahead of time. Aramis tilted his head to the right, towards Porthos, who shifted just enough so that one hand could tap his other arm six times. Then, Athos very deliberately closed his eyes for nearly fifteen seconds. 

Taken separately the movements meant absolutely nothing, but taken together, they told him something very important. 

D’Artagnan leaned towards Lapointe, who he could tell was getting restless. “There’s more here than meets the eye. Our friends over there just told me that there are at least six more men we can’t see from here, most likely hidden somewhere to their right where we don’t have a clear line of sight.”

“Said?”  Lapointe scoffed. “I saw nothing.” 

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep himself from saying something that he would later regret. “You’ve trusted me this long, _please_ believe me now. We need to prepare to fight more than just the five men we can see. Perhaps they figured out someone escaped, and now want their shot at taking out even more Musketeers than our three friends.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time our enemies have tried that tactic,” Lapointe said. The man pointed towards the captured men with a tilt of his head. “What are they “saying” now?” 

Almost as if the man knew it would take his young friend a specific amount of time to convince the Musketeers d’Artagnan was with, Athos happened to look in his direction just as d’Artagnan turned to look at him. It was as if they had locked eyes even though Athos couldn’t possibly know where exactly he was located in that precise moment. Yet, he could feel as if a connection had been made. 

Athos smirked as if he’d heard d’Artagnan’s thoughts of the past minute. That smirk spread from Porthos to Aramis. He thought he even detected a hint of pride on their faces before all three suddenly refocused and grew serious. To him, it was obvious it was almost time for them all to act. 

A flurry of eyebrow twitches and other facial tics suddenly came at him at a pace almost too quick for him to follow. D’Artagnan passed the information he’d gleaned along to the other Musketeers with him. He was thankful they, despite remaining skeptical, were willing to trust someone who was still a recruit just enough to follow the plan he’d relayed from the three captive men. 

Now all they had to do was wait for the signal. 

ooooooo 

After all was said and done, and after they had returned to Paris, he and his three friends were sitting at their usual table at the garrison drinking wine and partaking in the evening meal. 

None of them had yet to say a word, preferring to not disrupt the feeling of camaraderie and of joy that they were alive after their mission had gone wrong in so many ways, leading to their capture and necessitating a rescue mission. 

D’Artagnan noticed that his friends had suddenly gone still. Looking into their faces, he could read the exact same thing on each of them. 

He smiled and said, “You’re welcome.”—He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped—“I guess I finally learned the fine art of silent communication.” 

ooooooo 

_The end._

**ooooooo**

**Author's Note:**

> .  
>  The original draft of this one was inspired by Celticgal1041’s story, Infected, and a conversation we had about it. Originally, it was supposed to be a 5 + 1 format, with one of the five including characters from Celticgal’s story. However, the end result is no longer connected to Infected. So much time had passed between me handwriting the draft, and typing up the final product, that I ended up editing out all but two of the four scenarios which are included in this story. 
> 
> Don’t forget to wish Celticgal a Happy Birthday!
> 
> I proofed this one myself, so if there are any mistakes that I missed, please let me know. Thanks. 
> 
> **Just wanted to start warning everyone... There will not be a new chapter of Learning it the Hard Way posted on Tuesday, 26 December. I'm taking the week off due to Christmas!**
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
